


there's a room where the light won't find you

by Crimsoncat



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Stabbing, F/F, Kinktober, Knifeplay, PTSD flashbacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sensory Deprivation, light stabbing, poor kink etiquette, sexy fun times to be had by no one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimsoncat/pseuds/Crimsoncat
Summary: “Green,” Maria repeats firmly before Natasha can ask again. Because she is.(Sheis.)





	there's a room where the light won't find you

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back bitches :)

Kinktober 2018

Day 03. Sensory Deprivation & Knife Play

* * *

 

Maria swallows thickly as Natasha takes a step back, finally done securing her. She flexes her muscles, subtly testing the strength of her restraints, and Natasha’s quiet _tsk_ stops her cold. Maria forces herself to relax; exhaling slowly as Natasha circles, admiring her handiwork.

 

They use silk scarves to restrain one another, which are incredibly soft against the skin and have the added benefit of being extremely gorgeous. Maria has admired the way Natasha looks bound with them more times than she cares to count, and she does not begrudge Natasha her moment of appreciation.

 

It isn’t the first time that Natasha has tied her to this chair. Binding her legs and arms so expertly, leaving Maria completely at her mercy. Though Maria does not enjoy being bound often (she usually prefers to be the one who does the binding), sometimes it is exactly what she needs. And Natasha is always eager to oblige her, always happy for a chance to offer Maria that release. And she always, _always_ , takes a moment to admire the way Maria looks.

 

Completely bound and helpless.

 

Just for her.

 

(Only ever for her. Maria cannot imagine giving this part of herself to anyone else. Her submission is a gift that she offers, for Natasha and Natasha alone, and Natasha accepts it with great reverence and quiet elation each time.)

 

The point is, this is something that Maria wants. Something that she has asked for.

 

And she doesn’t know why her heart is stuttering in her chest like this.

 

Maria sits perfectly still and focuses on her breathing as Natasha circles her. She listens to the quiet patter of Natasha’s feet across the floor and the occasional creak of the floorboards as Natasha moves around the chair Maria is bound to. Normally she would track Natasha’s journey with her eyes, instead of her ears. The blindfold makes that impossible this time, but Maria finds that even blindfolded, even when Natasha’s steps are perfectly silent, Maria still knows exactly where she is. Maria _always_ knows where Natasha is. The same way she can tell the exact moment Natasha enters a room. There is an unmistakable shift in the air whenever Natasha is nearby, a spark that Maria can feel at the very core of her being.

 

It’s soothing in a way that Maria doesn’t know how to articulate, and she can feel herself relaxing into the moment.

 

Natasha comes to a stop behind her, lightly resting her fingers along the side of Maria’s neck as she leans in. “You are so gorgeous like this, Maria,” Natasha murmurs. Her lips brush against the shell of Maria’s ear and she makes a pleased sound as Maria shivers uncontrollably. Natasha nips at Maria’s earlobe, dragging her teeth across the sensitive skin just to hear Maria gasp. “Are you ready, sweet girl?”

 

“Yes, Natasha,” Maria answers automatically, and Natasha hums thoughtfully as Maria’s pulse continues to skip against the pads of her fingers.

 

It's a bit more frantic than usual, but Natasha contributes that to the blindfold. Maria has never been blindfolded before. It stands to reason that it might make her a bit nervous.

 

But, even so, she still checks in to be sure.

 

“Colour?”

 

Maria’s response is immediate. “Green.”

 

Natasha gently caresses the side of Maria’s throat before she steps away. Maria listens to the drawer open, and she listens to the quiet contemplative noise Natasha makes as she selects a blade. There is a sharp sound, metal against metal as Natasha sharpens her knife, and Maria knows what she’s doing. She knows the sound is meant to increase her anticipation of what is to come next. And, normally, that is exactly what it does.

 

This time..

 

Maria shifts uncomfortably.

 

The bonds press against her skin as Maria flexes her muscles. Testing, again, the strength of her restraints. Something settles in the pit of her stomach when they don’t give even a little. Something heavy that Maria doesn’t want to name.

 

The sound of the blade being sharpened stops prematurely as Natasha notices her discomfort.

 

“Green,” Maria repeats firmly before Natasha can ask again. Because she is. (She _is_.) Because Natasha suggested the blindfold, and Maria isn't willing to give up on it so easily.

 

Natasha doesn't ask for things. Not like this. And Maria would pluck the stars from the heavens for Natasha if she could. Surely she can at least do this much for her.

 

Maria tries to focus on the feeling of Natasha circling her. Watching her. But she can’t sense Natasha through the darkness trying to take her over. There is only the feeling of her restraints. The heavy cloth across her eyes. The cold floor beneath her feet.

 

It’s hardwood, Maria _knows_ that. But it almost feels like cement.

 

This almost feels like..

 

Maria swallows once. Twice.

 

(There is a memory that lives in the depths of Maria’s soul. Something that she keeps locked away; something that she keeps buried. She doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t talk about it. Doesn’t ever, ever allow it to see the light of day.

 

But sometimes..

 

Sometimes it escapes without warning.)

 

Maria exhales slowly, carefully, and focuses on the knowledge that it is Natasha standing behind her. It is _Natasha_ , and she is safe here.

 

“Nat,” Maria says, voice pleading, and she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. She just needs to hear Natasha’s voice. Needs to know that it’s _her_ standing there, that she is the one holding the knife.

 

The cold blade presses into the meat of her shoulder. Scrapes across her skin. And Maria’s breath catches as her heart stutters in her chest.

 

“Tell me,” Natasha murmurs.

 

( _“Tell me,” he growls._

 

_The rope cuts into Maria's skin as she struggles. She tosses her head, trying to dislodge the blindfold, but it's tied too tightly. She doesn't see the punch coming; hard enough to send her and the chair she's tied to crashing to the ground._

 

_She chips her tooth on the cement floor. Spits blood._

 

_“I'm not telling you_ **_anything_ ** _,” Maria growls fiercely._

 

_She can't see the foot coming, but she can almost hear the sound it makes as it cuts through the air. She can't see it coming, doesn't know he is about to kick her hard enough to crack two ribs, but she knows_ **_something_ ** _is coming._

 

_Maria has enough time to wonder if this will be how she dies before the steel toed boot connects with her side._ )

 

“..ria!”

 

She can't breathe. She can't _breathe_.

 

Maria struggles against the rope, even though she knows it's useless. She’s going to die here.

 

Someone touches the side of her face and Maria flinches violently away from them. She cannot seem to stop shaking, but she manages to choke back the terrified whine that tries to claw its way past her lips.

 

It's a small victory, but Maria is still counting it as a victory.

 

The knife presses against her skin, her arm this time, slipping between the restraints and her body, and Maria goes perfectly still. All she can hear is her heartbeat, a steady wall of sound as blood rushes through her body. She isn't prepared for what will come next.

 

Except the knife doesn't cut into her. It is pulled _away_ , slicing through the ropes like a hot knife through butter. Maria's hands are free; miraculously, inexplicably free.

 

She immediately pulls away the blindfold.

 

Natasha drops the knife without thinking. The pure terror in Maria's gaze hits her harder than any blow she's ever taken, and the knife falls from her hand to clatter uselessly against the hardwood.

 

Natasha turns to snatch the topsheet off their bed. Maria flinches when she steps towards her, and Natasha knows that Maria isn't reacting to _her_. Maria is reacting to whatever nightmare they've unknowingly summoned.

 

(Natasha _knows_ this.

 

But it still hurts in places she can't name.)

 

She drapes the sheet around Maria to cover up her nakedness, and quickly steps away. Maria clings to the sheet, pulls it tight, and takes a shuddering breath.

 

“You're ok, Maria, you're safe,” Natasha tells her. “It’s just me. It's Natasha. And I will never, **never** let anyone hurt you like that ever again.”

 

Natasha can't be certain which memory they've accidentally triggered, but she has a damn good idea. And later, once Maria is ok, she will crucify herself for this. For not thinking about what a blindfold might mean to her.

 

But that will come later. Right now the only thing that matters is pulling Maria out of this.

 

“You're safe, Maria. You're **_safe_** ,” Natasha repeats. “You are in our bedroom, Maria. You aren't back there. You're home. With me. You're safe, Maria. I promise you. Nothing will ever hurt you here.”

 

Maria blinks, and her gaze almost focuses on Natasha.

 

“..nat?”

 

“That's right. I'm right here, Maria.”

 

Natasha repeats her name like a mantra, tosses it out like a lifeline, and calls her back home.

 

Maria blinks again. She moves like she wants to stand, but her legs are still tied to the legs of the chair.

 

“Maria, do you know where you are?” Natasha keeps her voice calm and steady.

 

“I'm..” she blinks again. Tightens her grip on the sheet. “..in our bedroom?”

 

“That's right. I'm going to untie your legs, ok?” The knife would be faster, but Natasha does not want to risk cutting Maria if she jerks. Cutting her arms loose had been a risk, but there hadn't been another option at the time.

 

Natasha approaches her slowly. “I’m going to crouch down, move the sheet, and untie you.”

 

Maria gives a jerky nod, and Natasha drops to her knees to release her.

 

Natasha fumbles the first knot. Her hands are shaking, and she closes her eyes for a moment. She takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, and tries again. It only takes a few minutes to free both of Maria’s legs, but it feels an eternity. Natasha doesn’t want to think about how much worse it must feel for Maria.

 

Once done, Natasha stands slowly and retreats a few steps. The last thing she wants is for Maria to feel crowded. She isn’t sure what Maria needs in this moment; Natasha has never witnessed Maria having a flashback before.

 

Natasha only knows that when _she_ suffers them she doesn’t want anyone anywhere near her. And so she keeps her distance.

 

Maria closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath, holds it for a count of five, and releases it slowly. Then she does it again. And again. Focusing on the breath in her lungs and the fabric of the sheet, wrapped so tightly around her body and beneath her fingers, as she grounds herself in this moment.

 

“I’m ok,” Maria says finally, and she isn’t sure if she says it for Natasha’s benefit or her own.

 

She stands, pulls the sheet tighter around her, and looks around their room before focusing her attention on Natasha. “I’m ok,” she repeats, softer this time, and Natasha releases a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

 

Natasha hands her one of the bottles of water they set on the nightstand before they began their scene, and she doesn’t comment on the fact that Maria’s hand shakes when she reaches for it. Natasha also doesn’t comment on the fact that Maria still hasn’t made eye contact, or the way she steps back again once she has the water.

 

The worst of the episode may have passed, but Maria isn’t ok. Not by a long shot.

 

But Natasha does not say this. Instead she steps around Maria to the first aid kit they set out on the dresser. Just in case of shit.

 

Well. This definitely qualifies as _shit_.

 

“I need to patch up your shoulder, and make sure I didn’t cut your arm.” Natasha’s voice is soft. Calm. Soothing. All she wants to do is scream, but that won’t help anything. It would be the exact opposite of helpful, and so she keeps her voice as even as she can make it.

 

“My shoulder?” Maria blinks. She glances at her right shoulder and doesn’t see anything. But when she turns her head to the left she’s shocked at the blood soaking through the sheet. “What..?”

 

“You jerked. Violently.” Natasha opens the first aid kit and pulls out the items she’ll need to dress the wound. (The wound _she_ caused.) “I touched the knife to your skin and you practically stabbed yourself on it when you flailed. I couldn’t move away fast enough.”

 

Maria sits on the bed and turns to offer Natasha her back. She does it silently, unsure of how to even begin apologizing for this. Natasha moves closer. Puts the medical supplies on the mattress. Hesitates.

 

“I need to touch you,” Natasha warns. “Is that alright?”

 

Maria nods, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. But Natasha still doesn’t move.

 

“Yes,” Maria manages. And only then does Natasha step into her personal space.

 

Natasha moves quickly and efficiently, and she touches Maria as little as possible as she cleans and dresses her shoulder. Natasha is very familiar with PTSD. Some people crave physical contact after an episode, and others abhor it. Maria hasn’t specified what she wants either way, but Natasha knows Maria well enough to read her nonverbal cues. And so she touches her as little as possible, and steps back again once she’s done.

 

“Let me see your arms.”

 

Maria shows her one arm at a time so she can keep the sheet wrapped tightly around herself. Natasha examines her skin from afar, and is relieved to find that the wound on Maria’s shoulder is the only cut on her body.

 

“Ok.” Natasha glances towards the chair and pile of scarves next to it. “I guess I’ll clean this up and let you get dressed.”

 

“Nat..” Maria reaches for her, and freezes when Natasha takes another step away.

 

“I’m going to clean this up and get started on dinner. We can watch a movie if you want? Or I can just.. be in the other room if you need me? Or I can leave, too, if that will help?” Natasha shrugs awkwardly. “Just.. let me know, I guess.”

 

Natasha wants to leave. She wants that desperately. Because she is furious. With Maria, for not calling red when she needed to. But also with herself, for not trusting her instincts and believing Maria would tell her when something was wrong. She is furious with Maria for making it impossible to trust her going forward, and furious with herself for being furious with Maria. She wants to go find someplace where she can be alone to process what just happened, and why she feels like such a fool for trusting the woman that she loves.

 

But, most of all, she needs Maria to be ok. And Natasha cannot bring herself to abandon her after such a violent dissociative episode. So she will give Maria a moment to compose herself and get dressed, she will make them something to eat, and she will give Maria whatever it is that she needs to feel safe.

 

Maria watches her sadly. There is an apology sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t bring herself to speak the words. _I’m sorry_ doesn’t seem big enough. How is she supposed to apologize for breaking Natasha’s trust so completely?

 

“Ok,” Maria says instead, her voice soft.

 

Natasha bends to scoop the scarves up off the ground, and grabs the back of the chair with her other hand. “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready?” She offers.

 

“Ok,” Maria says again, nodding this time.

 

She watches Natasha sadly, and she swallows the words pressing against her teeth.

 

_I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so fucking sorry._

 

Natasha closes the door behind her when she goes and Maria slums forward, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as she takes a deep and shaky breath.

 

She doesn’t know how to even begin to fix this fragile and precious thing that she has broken. But she has faith in Natasha, and in their relationship. Maria knows they will move beyond this in time. She will find a way to make this ok.

 

But, for tonight, she will continue to focus on her breathing. Tonight she will deal with the memories that cut her deeper than Natasha’s knife ever could. She will take the comfort Natasha is offering, and offer Natasha as much as she can in return.

 

And tomorrow she will begin the task of figuring out how to make this right.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like it should go without saying, but I'm going to say it anyway. Do not do this. Safe words exist for a reason, and if you cannot (or will not) use them when you need to, you should not be putting yourself into these kinds of situations. Play safe, loves. Respect your boundaries and the boundaries of the person(s) you choose to be kinky with.


End file.
